


When Your Numbers Up

by cc12313



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:44:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cc12313/pseuds/cc12313
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>POI inspired Permonde. Lola's number pops up and it's up to Matska to determine if she's the perpetrator or the victim of an impending threat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Your Numbers Up

Her eyes flickered up to the computer screen as it bleeped red with a new number.

  
212-178-8818

  
As briefly as her interest lasted for the ten digits, it was lost. She had played this game for so long that she no longer felt that rush that came with every new beep from the Machine. Her partner, on the other hand, jumped at the sound and began his work, thoroughly investigating the newest person who would soon be involved in a very violent crime. The Machine just gave them the person’s social security number. Figuring out if the person was a perpetrator or victim was up to them.

  
The buzzing of the printer didn’t disturb her as she flicked through the magazine in her hands. Feigning interest in the article on the page, she ignored her partner as he moved around piecing together the life of their latest number that was until she was called upon to finally take a look. Throwing the magazine down on her chair, she walked towards the whiteboard and pulled off the colored picture at the top, much to the annoyance of her partner who had stuck it on a moment ago.

  
“Lola Perry. Aged 26. CEO of Bakewell,” Her partner informed her as she looked at the picture of the girl.

  
“Quite young to be a CEO. First guess, she stepped on a few people to get to her position and now they’re looking to get a little payback,” Matska replied.

  
“Perhaps, but it is a family-owned business. She was passed down the position directly from her father, not that she didn’t work hard at the company before that,” He tapped at a photocopy of Lola’s record, “She’s been working there for years now and has improved sales with this new instant brownie mix. If it was another employee, they would, in the very least, be looking at a top promotion.”

  
“Ex-boyfriend feeling inadequate with her success then?” Matska retorted before adding, “Or maybe an angry mother looking for revenge after one too many of Bakewell’s cakes has her child resembling a beach ball.”

  
“I highly doubt a vexed mother is the threat to our number,” He replied. “We haven’t yet ruled out that Lola is the threat.”

  
With the new motivation in mind, she went down the other route, “It could be that she’s threatening to quiet an employee for good. They could have stumbled onto something little Lola was trying to keep secret. Her newest invention, maybe? After all, I do hear those cake recipes are to die for.”

  
The humor was lost on her partner as he shook his head and looked back to his computer. As he finished collecting the rest of Lola’s details, Matska started to get ready. She walked to the wall on the other side of the room. It was covered in guns and weapons of all kinds. Her own miniature arsenal. Grenades and smoke bombs were kept in the locked desk drawer. Her partner provided the funds to pay for her collection forgoing ever using a gun himself. Not that she cared for reason, she liked her possessions.

  
Looking at the wall was a difficult part. There were so many choices. Each gun looked so tempting and begged to be used. Taking into account the person she was going to be staking out and how public it would be, she chose two pistols. Small and easy to conceal but got the job done.  
She strapped them into the holsters on her hips and then grabbing her hunting knife which was placed in the patch on her outer left thigh. Inner thigh was a firm ‘no’ when it came to guns and knives. Anything sharp or anything that held bullets was in no way going between her thighs. With everything strapped on, she threw on her trench coat, its shape masking the outline of the guns perfectly and walked back to her partner.

“Where exactly am I being sent?” Matska asked, but her words showcasing her clear disinterest in the answer.

  
“Bakewell is located on forty-fourth street. I suggest trying there before her apartment. She will be going on her lunch break soon, if her account at Joe’s café is any indication,” Her partner replied, handing her a freshly printed page with a picture of the building and directions to both Lola’s apartment and the company.

  
She folded it and pocketed the page, “Contact me if you get any more information.” She turned around and started walking towards the door.

  
Opening it, she was hit with the cold breeze of New York weather. Under her trench coat, her suit kept her slightly warmer but did little to help with the cold nipping at her nose. With a sigh, she shut the door behind her and flagged down a taxi.

She didn’t get paid enough for this.

 

* * *

 

  
She had been recruited by J.P. Armitage after returning home from Ordos, China. Her training in both Special Forces and CIA had gifted her with the exact requirements Armitage was looking for with help with his Machine. She provided the brawns while he provided the brains.

  
She had been lost, on a path that did little to expel her pent up rage and frustration. Armitage had given her direction. There was no other job she could have settled into, not with the things she had seen and done. A ‘9 to 5’ job would never have suited her and she knew that. There was only one way that this was going to end and with each new number the Machine popped out, every new number she investigated, she wondered if it would be her last.

  
She didn’t particularly like humanity. It was weak, in her eyes, and constantly needing some form of protection. She didn’t see the point in helping people. She did what she did for the power feeling. It was an addiction and she craved the adrenaline rush she got during shootouts or car chases. Even her time spent in Iraq, the bullets shooting past her head as she pushed forward gave her that thrill. The stealth and undercover operations were another favourite of hers. To command that much power as she ordered teams in to buildings or sometimes just herself while in a room full of people. Quick thinking answers were a must for those missions. It came with the rush of nearly getting caught, it was exhilarating.

  
It also came down to the realization that if she didn’t save these people, no one would. She had the skills and equipment to do so. This world was lacking good people, its vacancy filled up with cowards and those who worked to steal, kill and overpower others. Armitage wanted to be the person to end all of that but with his injury and the fact he had little to no fighting skill, he had convinced her to be that person.

  
The taxi parked directly opposite the Bakewell building. Throwing some notes at the driver, she stepped out of the taxi and looked at the building. Its tall structure holding at least eighteen floors with glass windows providing little protection from snipers. As she glanced back to the front doors her target exited them, carrying three pink boxes in one hand and looking at her phone in the other. She walked across the street and straight passed Matska, engrossed in her phone.

  
Giving her some distance before falling into step behind her, Matska took out her phone and clicked onto Armitage’s app. Pointing it slightly in front of her, at Lola’s back, Matska’s phone began the process of cloning her targets mobile. The cloning process allowed her to read through Lola’s contacts, emails and messages. It produced an almost exact replica of Lola’s phone onto her own. As she read through the emails, hoping for some death threats, she internally groaned as the emails were describing nothing but meetings to discuss calorie controls and artificial sugar restrictions. She put her hand up to the earpiece, buried slightly deep in her ear and pressed the button. Turning on audio to her partner.

  
“Well, I’ve found nothing incriminating so far on this end. Please tell me that you, in the very least, found some death threats or ransom messages?” Matska asked as she continued to scroll through the linked up phone.

  
“I’m sorry Ms. Belmonde. I have found nothing that suggests Ms. Perry is in any immediate danger or the organiser of any tragedy on her end.”

  
Matska sighed to herself. This was going to be a head scratcher, “Alright. Thanks,” She mumbled a quick _for nothing_ under her breath before putting her phone away and following Lola.

  
Matska watched confused as Lola walked past the café and carried on down the street. She saw her go into a building on the corner and quickly followed up. She walked in, concealed within a group, not taking much notice of their state and walked with them into the main room. As they spread out and started taking seats at tables, she realized that she was in a soup kitchen. Just as she turned to leave a preppy girl came up to her.

  
“Hi, I’m Michelle. You must be new. I haven’t seen you in here before. Don’t worry, we’ll get you something to eat while you mingle with the rest of our visitors.”

  
Raising a finely arched eyebrow at the girl, she responded, “Do I look homeless to you?”

  
The girl briefly gave her a glance over, and as swiftly as she tried to do it, Matska still caught her. Her expensively tailored clothes did make the girl silently question what Matska could be doing there but she wasn’t one to judge.

  
“Of course not,” The girl assured her, “We get many people in here who just have trouble paying the bills and have little left over for food.”

  
Before Matska could correct her, the girl had latched onto her arm and was pulling her toward a table in the back. The seat gave her direct view into the kitchen where she spotted Lola giving the cakes to the staff working behind the counter before donning an apron. She dished out plates of piping hot food behind the counter as people lined up in a queue and collected them.

  
“I don’t think Lola is a perpetrator, Armitage. It seems our target is quite the Mother Theresa,” Matska said, putting her hand up to her ear piece.

  
“What is it you mean by that?” The reply buzzed in her ear.

  
“Check my location. I’m at a soup kitchen where Lola volunteers,” She looked around at the sight of people hunched over their food, looking glum and withdrawn “I say volunteers but more like suffers. I hope she isn’t going to be here for long, I can already feel my skin crawling.”

  
“Look on the bright side, at least you get a free meal out of this.”

  
She could practically see the grin on his face, “You just wait until I get back, you spying bast-”

  
A plate of food was placed down in front of her and the young girl from before was looking at her in a quizzing manner, “The first time is always…awkward, I guess you could say. When you didn’t go up to the counter, I thought you might not know how this works or felt slightly embarrassed even though there is no reason to be.”

  
As the girl talked, Matska poked at the food on the plate with her utensils. Picking up the chicken between her knife and fork, she started twisting it around, looking for any signs that the food was in some way tainted. It would have made a delicious dinner to somebody, she was sure, just not for her.

  
“I heard you talking to yourself before I came over. Is everything ok?”

  
“I wasn’t talking to myself,” Matska answered, bewildered with the girl’s questioning.

  
The girl looked at Matska’s table. The table she was sitting at. Alone.

  
“Who were you talking to then?”

  
Matska huffed before tapping her ear, “My friend, now could you please leave me in peace.”

  
The position Matska was in when sat in the chair and the way the earpiece was placed in her ear, the girl couldn’t see it and thought Matska was tapping at her head.

  
“We have another visitor here, Bobby, he talks to his ‘friend’ too sometimes. He’s sitting over there if you’d, sorry,” The girl took a moment to correct herself, “You guys, would like to join him or them, I haven’t asked him if he brought his friend today. You’re more than welcome to move around.”

  
As she turned in her chair, to tell the girl less politely to get lost, she saw Lola taking off her apron and grabbing her bag. She was going to move again and Matska needed to follow quickly. Standing up, the girl nearly fell on top of her. Matska pushed her to the side and moved to follow Lola but the girl called her back.

  
“You didn’t eat your food,” She gestured to Matska’s untouched plate.

  
Grumbling, Matska pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the girl, “That should cover it.”

  
“Oh, we don’t charge.”

  
“Then consider it a donation,” Matska shouted behind her as she quickly strode toward the front door of the building.

  
When she finally got out and looked up and down the street, Lola was gone.

  
“I lost her, Armitage.”

  
“Give me a moment.”

  
She started walking back the way she came from as she listened to the clicking of computer keys in the background of her ear piece, a couple of moments later the reply came, “I’ve managed to hack into Bakewell’s employee id scanner. She’s just checked back into work.”

  
“I’ll head over there then.”

  
“That won’t be necessary. I need you to come back here and try on some dresses that I bought.”

  
“We’ll, why didn’t you say that earlier? I could have saved you money. I have a hot pink little number that would look quite lovely on you.”

  
He grumbled incoherently before gruffly replying, “Just hurry back here, please.”

 

* * *

 

  
Ten dresses later and she finally settled on a red, knee-length, figure hugging dress.

  
“Remind me again who I am this evening?”

  
“You’re Ava Lin, corporate sponsor of Cadbury’s, a company based mainly in Europe.”

  
Tonight, Matska would be attending a party for official corporations, chief executive officers, marketing executives and most importantly, it was being held at Bakewell’s office. It gave her the access she needed to get into Lola’s office and find evidence of Lola’s aggressor. With what she had seen earlier, she no longer mused that Lola was a threat but a victim, if she didn’t stop the threat in time.

  
“And why can’t the real Ava Lin make it?”

  
“A personal matter came up at the last minute. She was sent a video of her husband in a rather compromising position with the pool boy. I’d imagine she would like to talk to him about that.”

  
“Armitage, you sly dog.”

  
“I believe people should have the right to know of the going-ons in their marital home.”

  
“I honestly couldn’t care about such matters, it worked out for us, but wouldn’t she have cancelled her invitation.”

  
“Yes, by email, but I managed to intercept it through the access you provided to Lola’s phone. I deleted her follow up email of not being able to make it tonight before Lola saw.”

  
“Anything else I need to remember?”

  
She groaned as he handed her a pile of papers, “Just what I told you earlier. If somebody asks you a particular question only Ava would know, I’ll feed you the answer through your ear piece.”

  
“Okay, but what are these for?” Matska said, referring to the bundle of papers in her hand.

  
“I needed to clear a space for your make-up,” He replied, his voice teasing her before she fired back with a quip of her own.

  
She rolled her eyes and dropped the papers onto the table next to her, “Want me to do yours while I’m at it?”

  
Laughing as he huffed at her, she took a seat at the other table and began applying her make-up for the party.

  
“You want to run through the plan one more time?” Armitage asked, leaning on the table.

  
“I go in there, try and spot Lola’s threat and if they’re not there, I take a look in her office,” She replied, smoothing out the make-up on her cheek with the brush.

  
“Matska, these are business people you are dealing with. They’re almost as cut-throat as you, in the literal sense that is, not the way you do it,” He trailed off as she smirked, “Any hesitation and they will see right through you and your cover will be blown before you have a chance to get close to Lola.”

  
“I’ll be fine as long as you give me the answers, the rest, I can do on my own.”

  
“That, is exactly what I am afraid of.”

  
“Hush,” she chastised. “It will be fine. I know how to work a crowd or have you forgotten?”

  
He let the matter drop and walked back to his desk. They bided their time in silence. It was the one thing that remained constant during each mission. Their quiet time. Matska soon figured out what Armitage was doing after their third number together. It hadn’t taken long to realize that he was trying to relax her before she was throwing guys through windows. As much as she did enjoy her adrenaline rush, there was something to be said to be left in peace and to forget, even for a moment, their latest trials and troubles.

  
Armitage stood to say his goodbye, as was his usual custom, when the time came. He handed her a new phone and placed a laminated key card, on a lanyard, over her head. She turned the laminated plastic, to look at the front and groaned at the picture.

  
“Couldn’t find another photo of me?” Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as she regarded the plastic card in her hand, flicking her fingers on the laminated edges, “How did you get this?”

  
“The party is using the same swipe-in system as the employees. I was able to print off a card after registering your details.”

  
“Okay, but one issue. What if the party cards are designed differently to the normal cards?”

  
He slipped his phone out of pocket and pocked at the screen, “I took the liberty to look into some of the people who appeared on the invitation list. Mainly, the younger generation and they didn’t fail to disappoint,” He handed her the phone. On the screen was a status and pictures from a social media site that one of the guests had uploaded, bragging about the packaging the invitation came in, including close up pictures of the card.

  
She handed him back his phone and put on her coat just as a beep sounded from outside, signalling her car had arrived.

  
“I’ll speak with you soon.”

  
He nodded and watched her leave before resuming his position in front of the computers.

 

* * *

 

  
She had gotten into the party, with no trouble from the card, thankfully, and was mingling with the other guests. Matska considered it mingling but she stood to side with a glass of champagne and sneered at anyone who tried to come close and talk to her as she observed the rest of the room. She had spotted the exits when she first stepped into the room. An old army habit, something she couldn’t shake even if she wanted to and she didn’t want to, it had gotten her out of many shootouts while working for Armitage.

  
Her next look out was for a threat. Nobody stood out. It wasn’t the easiest part of the job. It wasn’t as if they had ‘I’m the threat’ written on their backs. No, she watched closely, for the tremor of a hand for nervousness or somebody whose eyes kept darting around the room but so far, nothing. It was also hard to ‘make’ everyone when there was such a large group of people. It was very easy for a threat to strike while under the disguise of being in a crowd but everyone’s cards checked out with issue. Everyone in the room who was supposed to be there, was there. Matska excluded herself in that bracket.

  
People were still arriving and she watched them enter the room, finely dressed and looking every bit as rich as they seemed. She looked back at the door just as Lola entered wearing a green dress, which oddly seemed to compliment her red hair which was let down in ringlets.  
Lola moved around the room and talked to every group of people. While she was occupied, Matska checked in with Armitage, asking him to keep an eye on the cameras in the party room as she slipped out the side door and went in such for Lola’s office.

  
The office wasn’t far. It was directly down the hall from the room. Its distance provided her with enough time to seem like she was heading to the restroom but close enough to get back if there was a problem.  
She pushed down on the handle, checking the lock and was surprised to find it conveniently unlocked. She slipped into the room and shut the door quietly behind her. The computer screen was still light and was illuminating the room. She quickly moved to sit down in front of it before the computer could turn off. The seat was still warm meaning Lola was just after vacating the room.

  
‘Or could someone else have been in here?’ Matska briefly thought before clicking on the mouse.

  
Emails from Lola’s account popped up on screen and Matska was ready to dismiss them from reading them earlier but stopped herself from clicking off the browser. This was a separate email account with only one conversation. She clicked into it and read through the correspondence. Emails sent back and forth between Lola and a name she didn’t recognize.

  
“Armitage, I think I found the reason why Lola is being targeted.”

  
“What is it you found?”

  
“I found emails on Lola’s account.”

  
He brought back up Lola’s emails on his side, refreshing for new emails, “There’s nothing here.”

  
“She has a separate account. The one on her phone must have been strictly for work.”

  
“Well, what did you find?”

  
She clicked onto the very first email Lola sent, starting the conversation with the other person, “Lola’s been using a private investigator to look into some missing money from the charity and business accounts. She has him checking out the accountant’s. The last email she sent him was a few minutes ago asking for an update. Now, this is odd,”

Matska squinted at the screen.

  
“What? Did he reply?”

 

“No, he was quite regular with his emails, sending them every day with his progress but he hasn’t sent anything in days.”

 

“What’s the name? I can try and track him.”

 

“He signed off as James Speet. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if it is just an internet façade.”

 

“Give me a moment.” She waited in silence as Armitage researched, “Matska?”

 

“What did you manage to dig up?”

 

“There is a reason he hasn’t responded. He’s dead.”

 

“What?”

 

“Police were alerted to his apartment by his neighbours yesterday. From what I can see on the report, it’s being written up as a murder. The police are set to go public tomorrow and appeal for witnesses or information.”

 

She slapped her hands on the table in frustration. This case was definitely proving to be something.

 

“He was obviously getting close to something but what?”

 

“Can you give me the account numbers that are missing funds? I can try and trace them back, even if they are sent to offshore accounts, each person that checks those accounts leaves a digital footprint.”

 

She brought up the very first email again and read back the same account numbers Lola had sent to the private investigator, “Got them?”

 

“Yes, I’ll look into these while you figure something out because Lola is heading back to her office.”

 

She looked past the computer screen and sure enough, Lola was walking straight towards her office. She cursed Armitage for not spotting Lola leave sooner. She had to act fast.  
Lola opened her door and nearly jumped at the sight of Matska sitting on her couch with her head in her hands.

 

“What are you doing in here?”

 

“I’m sorry, its just-,” Matska sniffed and rubbed at her eyes for good measure, “I get such bad anxiety in crowds and It all becomes too much. I hope you don’t mind, your door was unlocked and I needed a minute to catch my breath.”

 

“Of course not,” Lola reassured her, “I understand.”

 

Matska smiled up at her in fake gratitude, “It gets too much sometimes. Again, I apologize I shouldn’t be burdening you with my problems.”

 

From the moment Matska had seen Lola in the soup kitchen, she had sized her up. If somebody with as much money as Lola had and a business as public as she did, she wouldn’t volunteer without promotion if she didn’t really have it in her to care about people. To play on Lola’s kindness was her opening. It wasn’t the best moral opening but it was an opportunity to get close to her non the less.

 

It worked as Lola took a seat next to her, “I’ve been through it too. Just take deep breathes and try to relax.”

 

“That’s easier said than done.”

 

Lola laughed, “Yes, but it does work when you can. I didn’t catch your name?”

 

She swallowed the retort of, ‘that’s because I didn’t give it’, and responded, “Ava Lin.”

 

“Ava? I didn’t know you would be attending, there was a question mark next to your name.”

 

“I had a matter I had to deal with and didn’t know if I would be able to finish it in time for the party but luckily it resolved on its own and I was able to fly in last minute.”

 

“Well it’s great that you could make it. Now, if you excuse me for just a moment I just need to check an email. Even at party’s work never stops.” Lola stood up from the couch, smoothing out wrinkles in her dress, and moved toward her desk.

 

Matska held up her phone in mock sympathy, “I empathize with the feeling. Since I’ve stepped into the room, work hasn’t stopped calling.” She could hear Armitage grumble over the ear piece at her jab.

  
Lola laughed but her face soon became serious as she looked at the computer screen making Matska internally panic. When Armitage had said Lola was coming, she had to quickly come up with a plan as not to get caught. Now, she was praying she had clicked out of the emails and that everything was left the way Lola had it previously.

  
“Ava?” Lola called.

  
Shit.

  
“Yes?”

  
“I have to admit there was another reason I sent that invitation.”

  
"And, what is that?”

  
Lola walked around to the front of her desk and leaned against it. “I wanted to talk marketing strategies with you. I’m thinking of expanding more globally and since you do most of your business in Europe, I wanted to get your opinion on how I should go about it and what exactly I should be aware of?”

  
“Of course, but won’t your other guests start to get agitated that you’re not there to entertain them? You are the reason everyone came here tonight,” Mattie asked.

  
Lola waved off the question, “They will understand that business comes first, and I’m sure they are more interest in the latest gossip to even notice I’m missing.”

  
Mattie eventually agreed. She didn’t need Lola getting suspicious, “Fine. Would you like to turn on the lights for this?”

  
“I was actually hoping we could do this in a more private area. I don’t want a drunken party goer to stumble in while working out the fine eccentricities of marketing with you.” Perry took a breath and looked as though she was deliberating something over in her head before answering Matska, “No, we’ll go to my apartment. I have an office there.”

With a chance to get into Lola’s apartment and look around or more clues to lead her to Lola’s threat, she quickly agreed.

 

* * *

 

  
Lola’s apartment was located on the twentieth floor. With a perfect view of central park. It took Matska a while to appreciate it, she was too busy looking at the buildings directly across from Lola’s for any sign of snipers or mercenaries. She had even ignored Lola’s furniture in favor of looking for a sighting of the threat. It was only when she looked around the room did she finally notice the decoration.

  
Lola had a large kitchen. Complete with every utensil from cake mixers to high-cost coffee machines. The sitting room joined onto the kitchen with only a step separating the two. A hallway was off to the side where she guessed led to the bathroom and bedroom. Armitage had found out earlier that Lola had bought the one-bedroom apartment three years ago.

  
“Like it?” Lola asked.

  
“It’s lovely. I love your hardwood theme.” Matska answered, noticing how the dark floor-boards linked into the kitchen units.

  
“Thank you, but it’s nothing compared to your mansion I’m sure.”

  
“Yes, and I know exactly how ridicules the extra rooms are.”

Lola smiled before holding out her hand, “Where are my manners? Can I get you a drink?”

“I never talk business without a glass of red wine, if you have some?” Matska answered.

“Of course, take a seat and I’ll bring it right in,” Lola replied, stepping up into the kitchen as Matska took a seat on one of the leather arm chairs.

She watched Lola move around in the kitchen, pulling out plates and glasses. Seeing Lola occupied, she took another glance around the apartment to see if there was any evidence of Lola’s threat having visited the place. She slipped her phone from her pocket as she tapped on her ear piece.

“Armitage, I need you to do a quick scan of the apartment. Find out if there is any hidden cameras giving off signals or showing up on the electrical circuit of the apartment.” Matska whispered into the piece.

Nothing stood out of place, in fact the apartment didn’t even look lived in, which did slightly concern her but with the realisation Lola was a busy women, she supposed cleaners looked after everything. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Lola walking into the sitting room brandishing a glass of win in one hand and a plate with chocolate on it in the other.

“What is this?” Matska asked in amusement as Lola placed the dessert in front of her.

“A chocolate brownie. It goes down great with red wine and it’s my own recipe that I’ve perfected since I was a little girl. I won’t even let them use it at the company. They don’t even know about it.”

“I’m a lucky woman then,” Matska replied, cheekily winking before taking a bite.

Matska generally wasn’t a dessert type but with the taste of the brownie was enough for to crave more and still not be satisfied. She moaned as she tasted hazelnut liquor lacing the bottom of the brownie.

“At least I know you like it,” Lola laughed as she listened to Matska moan over the dessert.

“It’s delicious. You must give me the recipe,” Matska said, swallowing down the last bite and taking a sip from the red wine.

“That dies with me,” Lola replied, before heading back into the kitchen to grab her glass.

“Which might be sooner than you think,” Matska muttered into her glass.

“Say something?”

Matska hummed before shaking her head, “ Oh, nothing.”

“Now, I wanted to get your advice on some marketing ideas I have,” Lola said, taking a seat on the chair next to Matska, their knees almost brushing together.

“I have to be honest,” Matska said suddenly as Lola looked at her curiously. The excuse of not knowing much about marketing was right on the tip of her tongue when sudden dizziness hit. She took a shallow breath confirming her suspicions as sweat began to gather on her forehead. “I’m sorry but may I use your restroom?”

  
She didn’t Lola a chance to answer before standing up and walking toward the hallway. Each step forward drained her more. She needed to hurry, needed to contact Armitage. She looked back at Lola as she steadied herself on the wall of the hallway. “Which door is the bathroom?”

  
“Oh, I thought you would know that,” Lola said, standing up and making her way toward Lola, “I mean, you seem to know everything else about me.”

  
“What?” Matska gasped out.

  
“I know you’ve been following me and I know you’re not Ava Lin. The question now is, who you really are and why you’ve been stalking me."

  
She tried desperately to keep conscious but was losing the battle. She slid down the wall of the hallway, trying desperately to raise her hand to her ear and contact Armitage but, like the rest of her body, her arms were uncooperative. Her head dropped forward as Lola advanced further and finally lost her battle as her eyelids slid shut.

 


End file.
